spit through the metal bars dividing him from Casey and Morgan. For a moment he leered at her—the cold look of lust.
She’d nearly forgotten his crude mannerisms. Strange how being among respectable folks caused her to forget outlaw ways. Rose and her girls weren’t much better. They swore, drank, and ate like the hardest men.
“Sit down,” the guard said. “They’ve come a long way to see the likes of you.”
“You can’t make me talk to him.” The old man snorted like a pig. “What do you want to do now? Get me hanged?” He peered up at the guard. “Might as well take me back to my cell.”
Leroy failed to glance her way. He has no idea who I am. Do I interrupt? Expose myself to the guard? Or let Morgan handle this?
“Calm down, Leroy. Just hear me out.” Morgan’s voice rang smooth and even. “All I’m asking is a few minutes to talk.”
“I ain’t talkin’ to you ’bout nothin’. Leave me be, Andrews. Yer wastin’ yer time.” He pulled his bent body up to stand.
Morgan glanced at the guard, but the stoic, uniformed man didn’t offer any assistance. Leroy faced the lawyer defiantly and again asked the guard to take him back to his cell. Jerking the outlaw around to face the door, the guard escorted him from the visitation area. The door creaked and slammed shut, echoing as though it sealed Casey’s fate.
Morgan pounded his fist onto the narrow ledge before him. He clenched his hand until his knuckles glared white. His face reddened. Fury threatened to explode through the pores of his skin. He took a deep breath, and for several minutes he paced the floor until the frenzy of the moment no longer creased his face.
Casey waited. He had to calm down before she could help him reason through what had happened. He’d been so sure about battling it out verbally with the old outlaw and leaving the prison with a signed document, but Leroy never gave him an opportunity. All this way for nothing.
Watching Morgan sink back into the chair, she deliberated what to say. Perhaps nothing until he was ready. The room smelled musty, nearly suffocating. Telltale odors of unwashed prisoners lingered in the room much like the cheap, sickly sweet perfume of the soiled doves who worked the pleasure palaces. Old sounds and smells and the taste of whiskey washed over her. She’d do anything to keep from being locked up in a place like this. She’d rather be dead.
She glanced at the ceiling and studied the spiders in the corners. Their lacy webs continued on and on in an endless pattern. Their weaving was purposeful. They didn’t allow anything to stop them.
She considered the brief meeting with Leroy Wilson. The prisoner needed an incentive to listen—or rather a bribe so enticing he’d be a fool to pass it up. Some things naturally require more effort than others.
Morgan had never been a man prone to give up easily. Today his efforts had failed, but what about tomorrow? She flatly refused to walk out of San Quentin beaten and depressed without a fight. Leroy could be convinced to talk to them.
“Don’t give up.” She studied Morgan’s face. “We need to ask God for wisdom.”
“I’m not beaten. That old man thinks he won today, but he hasn’t seen the fighting side of me.” He rose from the hard wooden chair. “I’m taking you to the ferry, and then I’m heading straight for the warden’s office. Tomorrow he’ll talk to me or face the biggest regret of his life.”
The next morning, Morgan and Casey again seated themselves in the visitation room and waited for a guard to bring Leroy into the area. After the experience of the day before, Morgan had requested a different guard who had the reputation of keeping the convicts in line. This time Leroy would sit there until Morgan finished.
The old prisoner took one look at Morgan and stopped in the doorway. “Told ya yesterday, I ain’t talkin’ to ya. I’ll send ya an invite if I change my mind.”
The guard, a stocky man who looked no better than most outlaws, shoved him down into a chair. “Wilson, you’ll stay here and listen to this man, or I’ll make it real tough on you. Do you understand?”
Morgan thanked the guard and settled back in his chair. “I may need you to make sure he listens to what I have to say,” he said to the guard.